


Treadmill

by kitausu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Worship, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, but verbal, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 07:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11203761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: At 2 minutes of torture in, Lance heard the buzz/click noise of someone’s electronic key activating and opening the door to the gym. And of course, because this was Lance’s life, Hunk had pushed him onto a treadmill with a mirror right in front, affording him an absolutely stunning view of the man walking through the door.Had Lance loved till now? He was pretty sure that he had never even felt an emotion before seeing the beautiful male specimen reflected beside his face in the mirror.or, Lance waxes poetic about Shiro's everything, and Hunk set it all up in the first place





	Treadmill

**Author's Note:**

> This was a reword for myself for studying so much today. I hope you enjoy? I did not read it over for grammar, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Lance could practically feel his skin wrinkling from the uncontrollable pout on his lips as he stared at the treadmill.

Lance hated treadmills. Sure, they sounded good on paper. Running indoors with air conditioning and a screen that you can watch TV on? Sounds amazing! But, in reality, they were the most boring piece of cardio machinery on the planet.

Run 5 miles outside? No problem, let him get his sneakers. Run 5 minutes on a treadmill? Nope, no thanks, Lance is dead and you are speaking to his ghost.

“It’s just for a warm-up, Lance. It’s only 5 minutes!”

Lance squawked indignantly as Hunk pushed him towards the row of machines, all of their screens bright with cheery font calling out _Click here to start!_

There was absolutely no way in hell Lance was going to click on anything!

Except, here he was. He was running. He was pouting. He was running and pouting and Hunk was laughing at him from the rowing machine as he warmed up for free weights.

At 2 minutes of torture in, Lance heard the buzz/click noise of someone’s electronic key activating and opening the door to the gym. And of course, because this was Lance’s life, Hunk had pushed him onto a treadmill with a mirror right in front, affording him an absolutely stunning view of the man walking through the door.

Had Lance loved till now? He was pretty sure that he had never even felt an emotion before seeing the beautiful male specimen reflected beside his face in the mirror.

In fact, he had been so enthralled by the entrance of heaven personified, that the last three minutes had flown by and Hunk was waving his hand in Lance’s face like a signal flair.

“Earth to Lance, hello? Buddy?”

It was by instinct alone that Lance managed to turn off the machine, grab his towel, and follow Hunk into the free weight room. Where, of course, Mr. Gorgeous, with the white forelock of hair, and muscle tank that barely covered his pecks, was doing deadlifts like a champ with a booty that would not quiet.

And Lance would know, considering his own booty was a certifiable work of art. Ask the Met.

Hunk handed him a set of dumbbells, a little too light, but Lance wasn’t about to complain. By this point, Hunk had caught on to Lance’s preoccupation and was just physically moving him to the bench.

“Bent over rows, ten on each side.”

The disbelieving chuckle was ignored, thank you very much. Gorgeous man was doing squats on the Smith Machine now. The position showed off his prosthetic arm, metal glistening in the florescent lights of the gym. But it was also showing off his nice, bulging quads and Lance was in heaven.

Lance was also leaning on the bench, arm dangling useless as he barely gripped the weight. The man had lifted his shirt to wipe sweat off his face. Could seeing perfect abs kill a man?

“Hey, Shiro! How are you? I didn’t want to interrupt during your set.”

What? That was Hunk’s voice. Gorgeous man was turning, acknowledging Hunk, speaking to Hunk like a friend.

“This is my friend, Lance McClain. You may remember him from the front of that sports magazine you kept in your locker for a month.”

Shiro’s face went scarlet. The look of passive interest crumbled right before Lance’s eyes, replaced with the guilty look of a man who had probably jerked it to Lance’s photo from winning the Altean marathon last month. This was a very interesting development that Lance could 100% get behind.

Well, in under, anyway.

He decided to play it coy, innocent?

“Did you like the photo? It wasn’t my best angle. Maybe I can show you sometime?”

Okay, neither of those things. Apparently, his mouth decided to go straight forward and embarrassing, per usual.

Hunk slapped his hand to his own face, groaning, because he should have known Lance would react like that. There went that potential set up. Hunk had gone through so much to just get them here at the same time and Lance blew it in 5 seconds flat.

Except, Shiro’s face had gone from embarrassed, please bury me, to incredibly interested. His eyes roamed over Lance’s face and then body, and then body once again.

“Yeah, actually. I would love to see that.”

And then it was Lance’s turn, cheeks blooming a deep rouge across his dark skin in embarrassment. Shiro’s interested smile grew predatory, leaning a little more into Lance’s space, looking pleased when Lance didn’t move away an inch.

“But, maybe I can help you finish your work out, and then we can go on a date later?”

How did Shiro even do that? Lance was going to have whiplash from the constant back and forth between center of the sun Shiro, and the sweetest puppy he had ever seen.

“Yes. Dinner. Yes. I want that, would like that, I mean. Yes, please.”

Shiro reached out and gently took the forgotten weight from Lance’s hand, smiling sympathetically as Lance massaged the feeling back into his fingers.

“Well, I’m out of here!” Hunk called, and Lance felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even noticed Hunk leave the room to get his bag.

“But don’t you want to finish your workout?”

Shiro looked genuinely distraught by someone not being able to put in their reps, which Lance couldn’t help but love.

“Oh, I already worked out today. I was just showing Lance some upper body workouts. But, since he’s got you, I’m going to head home.”

Hunk smiled brightly, although he was careful to look for any signal from Lance that he didn’t want to be left. The shooing motion Lance made from behind Shiro’s back was answer enough.

He wondered if Lance remembered that Hunk had driven them. Hunk also wondered how long he would have to hear about Shiro’s motorcycle, and the make-out session they were probably about to have in the locker room.

 

Two hours later, Lance stumbled through the door. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, and a truly impressive set of hickies marked up the side of his neck.

“Good workout?”

“The best. I’m going back tonight!”

Lance skipped, his Nike’s leaving scuff marks on the linoleum as he went.


End file.
